The South Transept: The Epistle and Gospel X

O thou, on Whom the Angels dare not gaze,
In the deep bosom of Divinity,
But veil their faces from th' o'erpowering rays
Of Thine eternal beauty ! Thee we see
With countenance sore marr'd with agony
Beyond the sons of men. O wondrous power
Of Love divine ! shall man not watch with Thee
One little hour ! for scarce one fleeting hour
Set 'gainst the days of Heaven, is life's fast fading flower.